Friday, January 18, 2008

My Picassos

In talking with a friend recently, I found out that she doesn't display her personal photographs on her walls. This is quite a departure from me, who literally covers any bare space on any wall with a picture of somebody. On my walls are pictures of trips we taken, pictures from various races I've participated in, pictures of my children from newborn to adult, family pictures of varying time and place, and a myriad of other pictures that probably defy description. For me, my personal pictures are my Picasso's.

I love my pictures because each one reminds me of a happy time. My pictures remind me of three little children who grew up before I knew it, and of the memories contained in those years. My pictures help me remember the influence of those who have passed on. My pictures remind me to appreciate those family experiences captured through a camera lens. and to be thankful. My pictures comfort me, they amuse me, and they remind me of the many blessings I have received over the years.

I will never have a Renoir or a Warhol or a Matisse. It's just as well. They could never compare to the priceless works on my walls of a Sam or a Maribeth or a Molly.

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